Rum
by Nitroid
Summary: Szayel Apporo's plans to turn into Grimmjaw for one day backfires, and Grimmjaw is turned into a toddler. Due to Ulquiorra's cruelty toward the child, Ichigo decides he would help his nemesis; even if he doesn't remember anything when he returns to normal
1. Chapter 1

**I wish my cat would stop jumping on the keyboard so I could type properly. D:**

Szayel had always been jealous of Grimmjaw, for some unearthly reason. Of course, he wouldn't admit it for the world, but he admired Grimmjaw's incredibly kickass ways, his smooth talk, his feral grin, his well toned chest, his muscles, his … well, let's just take it that Szayel was jealous, and jealousy drove him to the furthest extent possible. Szayel came to the conclusion that if he couldn't have Grimmjaw's everything, he could _be _Grimmjaw, secretly – and then he'd have everything he could wish for. Szayel smirked as he watched the teal haired Espada eye Halibel up and down appreciatively from outside his work tower, long fingernails raking themselves across his skin, drawing blood. Szayel licked at the blood that oozed from his wound hungrily. Almost immediately, his wound healed up.

Rubbing his hands together deviously, Szayel decided that his little poisoned drink concocted several weeks ago would successfully turn Grimmjaw into him, and vice versa, even if only for a short time. If his plan worked, Szayel would enjoy every bit of Grimmjaw's body – and his abilities as an Espada. Replaying his usual sick images in his head, Szayel gave a shudder and produced a long moan. _Yes, indeed_, he thought as his pink tongue slid across his teeth languorously. _Grimmjaw will be mine._

Unaware of the strange situation he was in; Grimmjaw continued flirting with Halibel, whose large white front he rather admired. She didn't seem to be returning his intense gaze, however, deep in thought while watching Ulquiorra clean his swords. He was about to try a different technique – sidling up smoothly alongside her and getting her to talk – when pink strands of hair blocked Halibel from his view.

"Hey, what the fuck?" Grimmjaw glared at Szayel, who leaned over him with a gleeful smile. "Get off me, man."

"Drink with me." Came Szayel's invitation. "Try this."

Grimmjaw stared at the transparent bottle, where sickly looking green liquid sloshed about in said container. He swallowed loudly, feeling goosebumps prickle up his arms as Szayel whispered into his ear flirtatiously.

"Drink this, Grimmjaw, before I force it down your throat."

"No way in hell," Grimmjaw leaned backwards as far as possible to avoid Szayel's dangerously pink tongue. "What is it anyway?"

"Rum," Szayel hissed, lying through his teeth, trailing long thin nails down Grimmjaw's bare chest. "It's what humans drink sometimes. I read it in an Earth magazine Ulquiorra bought at a local store in Karakura, and decided to make my own."

Ulquiorra looked up from his swords. "What? I did? Don't remember."

"Bullshit," Grimmjaw managed to squeak out. "Go try your wisecracks and tricks on someone else; you think I'm a fool to try even one drop of your weird stuff?"

"Ah, but you're a fool to refuse." Szayel sniggered, inching closer and sliding his hands downward stealthily, all the way to the waistband of Grimmjaw's Espada pants. "Maybe you'd prefer a little suggestive foreplay to change your mind?"

Grimmjaw was thoroughly freaked by now; his hair was standing up on edge. Spooked, he looked toward Ulquiorra for help, but apparently Emocar was bent over his swords, crooning love songs to the blades. Next, Grimmjaw turned to Halibel, and was shocked to find her staring at both him and Szayel lustily with her amber eyes. Looks like he was on his own.

"Er…" he hummed and hawed. "I, uh, no thanks. Leave me alo--! Where do you think your hand is going, bastard?!"

"Why, some place fun, of course," Szayel licked his lips calmly, as if it was the most obvious statement. "Drink, my sweet?"

"Make me." Grimmjaw snarled, and found himself pushed against the wall, his hands tied by long whip-like strands of Szayel's pink hair.

"Don't struggle, Grimmjaw," Szayel purred. "You'll make me oh-so-hard."

Grimmjaw turned red, yanking his wrists downward, but to no avail. "Let me go, Szayel. I'm warning you."

"You sound so confident, but let's see if you're confident enough," Szayel stroked the fabric of Grimmjaw's pants teasingly. "Right down here."

Grimmjaw's gulp was audible. "I won't drink it, you sick bastard!"

"Tough words," Szayel chuckled, uncorking the bottle with a thumb. "Looks like I'll just have to feed you."

"Holy shit, this is so good." Halibel whispered conversationally to Ulquiorra, who blatantly ignored her in his efforts to make his blades shine. "Szayel dominating Grimmjaw makes me want to stop breathing."

Grimmjaw's eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut as tight as he could, kicking out with his legs. Managing to avoid his futile attacks, Szayel grinned wider, tipping the bottle sideways until a drop of the vile green liquid sloshed to the white sand. Instantly, the sand started fizzing. Dangerous stuff indeed. Szayel frowned; did he bring the right bottle? Nevermind, it was too late to go back and do a little research now. If he left, Grimmjaw would run and find a place to hide.

"Open wide, my sweet." Szayel used his long pink tongue to slide Grimmjaw's lips apart. "How about I drink some and let you taste it with a nice, slow, kiss?"

Realizing that no amount of jaw clamping and fang gnashing would help him, Grimmjaw could only shake his head and groan as Szayel's hips grinded into his. To make things worse, Halibel was actually panting, fingers gripping Ulquiorra's arm as she watched them with hungry eyes. Ulquiorra didn't seem to like it, attempting to wrench his arm free. Unfortunately, Halibel's grip was death, hence producing a loud defeated sigh from Ulquiorra as he stared down sadly at his already sparkling swords, unable to clean them any further.

"No kiss? Well then, this will have to do." Without warning, Szayel tipped the whole bottle into Grimmjaw's mouth, where the liquid splashed down his throat and into his system. "Don't choke, my little darling."

Grimmjaw coughed, clutching his stomach. There was a loud fizzing sound, like firecrackers. A little bang, and Szayel realized his plans had backfired.

"Dammit, Grimmjaw. Son of a bitch."

- - -

Ichigo unsheathed Zangetsu and prepared himself to fight Ulquiorra, who seemed to be slightly jittery. His usual self was calm and confident, but right now he seemed to be fidgeting madly, as if he had fire ants in his pants. The substitute Shinigami cocked his head to the side, watching Ulquiorra intently. There was something weird going on with his pants all right, like little hands moving and gliding…

Ulquiorra couldn't stand it anymore. "Stop that, Grimmjaw!"

Grimmjaw? Ichigo gawked and ogled some more. This was pretty good news.

Meanwhile, Ulquiorra fished up a little Hollow from behind his pants that looked exactly like Grimmjaw, except that he was smaller, shorter, slightly chubbier and more childish looking. Ichigo gaped, resisting the urge to laugh, but failed.

"What's so funny, Shinigami?" Ulquiorra dropped baby Grimmjaw to the ground and sliced the skin of his cheek with his sword. "I warned you to stop that, you little brat."

The little Hollow whimpered, but refused to cry as he reached up with trembling fingers to wipe the blood from his wounded cheek. His tears, nonetheless, dripped down the sides of his cheeks to his miniature Hollow garments. In the back of his mind, Ichigo wondered who sewed and manufactured the Espada clothes, and who patched them up when they were torn. _Idiot_, he chided himself, _Zangetsu re-sews your Shinigami shihakusho when ripped, so obviously their zanpakutou does that for them too!_ Frowning at Ulquiorra as he prodded baby Grimmjaw with the tip of his sword, Ichigo decided he'd put a stop to that and save Grimmjaw's ass for once.

"Hey, Ulqui!" he called, flashing a rather inappropriate finger. "If you harm one little hair on his head, I'll cut you to pieces."

"I'd love to see you try," Ulquiorra replied, stony faced. "You wouldn't understand how irritating it is to care for this little shit."

Grimmjaw finally registered the pain from his sliced cheek, and began to sob loudly. Ichigo's chest tightened; he longed to hold the little Hollow close to his chest and comfort him. But right now, he had Ulquiorra to deal with, and he wasn't sure he could fend him off while trying to protect a child of the enemy.

"What happened to Grimmjaw, Ulquiorra?" Ichigo stalled, watching the child hiccup and wail at Ulquiorra's feet. "Is that his clone?"

"No, it's him alright," Ulquiorra gave Grimmjaw a hard kick, sending him tumbling head over heels to the hem of Ichigo's shihakusho. "See for yourself."

"Don't kick him, dammit! Can't you see he's in pain already?" Ichigo reached down to pick the trembling child up gingerly. "Shh, baby. You're okay now, I'll get you all healed up."

Ulquiorra stared at him, unable to register his actions toward the baby Arrancar. To the left, Stark called for Ulquiorra as he hurriedly opened up a gargantuan. "Oi, Aizen ordered us to retreat! Let's get going. Leave the brat; he's useless now, thanks to Szayel."

"Szayel did this to Grimmjaw?" Ichigo asked, cuddling the baby close to him. "What the hell was he thinking?!"

Ulquiorra ignored him and turned on his heel to follow Stark, leaving Ichigo and a sobbing Grimmjaw in his arms. Ichigo sighed and sheathed Zangetsu, gently stroking baby Grimmjaw's soft blue hair as he stared down into his frightened blue eyes.

"Don't cry," he whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "You're safe with me now."

Grimmjaw blinked, and buried his face in the folds of Ichigo's robes. "Not cryin'." He sniffled, attempting to cover his blush.

**Gee, this didn't turn out to be what I'd expected, but nothing ever does anyway. Review, please? :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**UGH EXAMS! They're finally over, and I can be within a 10 meter radius of the computer without feeling guilty, heh.**

Ulquiorra knelt before Aizen, eyes fixated on his master's face. Aizen was clearly annoyed; his thin smile was icy and his eyes cold. Ulquiorra shivered, feeling Aizen's dominant reiatsu overpowering his own. He knew the reason behind this – he had failed at his given mission, evidently, and even worse; lost the Sexta Espada Aizen created – yet he felt not one inch of remorse. Grimmjaw was better off dead, but for now Ulquiorra could deal with him missing in action. All the better to control the Espada now, obviously.

"Ulquiorra Schiffer," Aizen began, resting his elbows on his immaculately white stone throne. "As Stark has reported to me; you have violated the child Grimmjaw Jeagerjacques and left him to suffer the cruelty of Shinigami. How exceedingly reckless of you."

"Aizen-sama, Stark has been lying to you," Ulquiorra stated as calmly as he could. "In actual fact, it was he who bade me leave Grimmjaw with Kurosaki Ichigo, the substitute Shinigami."

"It matters not whose fault it is," Aizen snapped. "I command you to bring Grimmjaw back."

Ulquiorra's fists clenched, but he knelt on one knee and bowed anyway. He could punish Stark later for accusing him; the matters at hand were much more important. "As you wish, Aizen-sama."

- - -

Ichigo smiled as Grimmjaw's little fists grabbed at his shihakusho for balance while he used shunpo to travel back home. Clearly the baby hollow wasn't used to being carried while moving at high speed.

"Don't worry, Grimmjaw," Ichigo whispered soothingly. "I'll never drop you, not like Ulquiorra."

"I can take care of myself; don't need anybody carryin' me." Grimmjaw protested, gripping the sides of Ichigo's arms as they shot over several buildings and under a tree.

"Really?" Ichigo grinned, pressing his lips to Grimmjaw's soft blue hair. "Then why are your eyes shut?"

- - -

Stark paced in his quarters, hands behind his back, fists clenching and unclenching worriedly. He had made Ulquiorra lose Grimmjaw, but the whole reason he was in trouble was Szayel's fault. That grossly pink haired bespectacled Espada just couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself – or his deadly chemicals, either – and be content in letting things be. In actual fact, Stark and every other Espada in Hueco Mundo knew of Szayel's jealousy of Grimmjaw, except the teal haired Espada himself of course. Being a wild and smooth operator, Grimmjaw had one weakness – ignorance. No, he definitely wasn't stupid, but he wasn't exactly what you'd call the wisest old fart in Las Noches either. Grimmjaw was wily, agile and reckless; he acted mostly on impulse, and was almost always getting Ulquiorra in trouble for his wrongdoings. However, the Sexta Espada proved to be smart when you least expected it, and Stark respected him for that.

To be honest, Stark missed Grimmjaw's presence. The teal haired Sexta Espada could cheer him up when he felt down – this happened mostly when his Fraccion Lilinette tried pulling one of her pranks on him; they usually ended with his favorite pillow being stolen away – and make him smile out of the blue. Mind you, Stark's smiles were pretty rare and usually only shown around Grimmjaw. Nnoitra was no match compared to him, and they were content with avoiding each other. As for Szayel and Ulquiorra, both were like temperamental cats in heat – Szayel with his experiments, and Ulquiorra with his swords. Halibel, no comment, as Stark had never actually spoken to her. Barragan was too kingly, Zommari was just plain weird, and Yammy only ever wanted to sleep. Stark couldn't understand Aaraniero, as he – or they, more like – always completed each others' sentences, and that confused him. That left him with Grimmjaw, who was in fact the bubbling fountain of life in Las Noches.

Now that his fellow Espada was stuck in Karakura Town, turned into a baby Arrancar, Stark felt lost and empty inside. Hence his decision to sneak out of Hueco Mundo and into Karakura without Ulquiorra noticing…but first he would have to convince Szayel to concoct a potion that would turn Grimmjaw back to normal. Desperate times called for desperate measures; Lilinette realized as she watched Stark do a little excited dance in his room.

- - -

Ichigo set Grimmjaw down on his bed with a tired sigh. "Are you sleepy, sweetheart?" he asked, ruffling Grimmjaw's hair.

"I don't need to sleep, I…," Grimmjaw yawned, suddenly realizing how comfortable the bed felt. "…I'm not sleepy."

"Yeah, suit yourself." Grinning, Ichigo popped back into his own body and crawled under the warm covers. "I'm going to bed."

Minutes later, Grimmjaw changed his mind.

- - -

Szayel slid the last test tube into its holder and frowned, leaning back into his white bone chair and crossing his arms over his chest. He was dissatisfied with himself; first, he had allowed himself to get carried away with Grimmjaw, and Aizen was annoyed with him. Furthermore, he had fed Grimmjaw the wrong chemicals – sudden aggressiveness and the will to destroy anything in his path. They were definitely not the ones he had in mind.

"What's done is done," he chided himself, watching blue smoke swirl out of the test tubes, discontented. "You can't change that."

"Yes, you can," someone said from the doorway. "But you have to want to right your wrongs first."

Szayel narrowed his eyes and licked his lips. "Ah, how kind of you to grace me with your presence, Stark. How may I be of assistance?"

"You know why I'm here." Stark strode right up to Szayel and grabbed him by the collar. "Only you can change Grimmjaw back to normal."

"And if I can't?" Szayel purred the inevitable. "What will you do then?"

"Assuming you can and you will," Stark hissed, "You may do whatever you like with him for a day."

"Just one day?" Szayel stroked Stark's collarbone invitingly with a finger, while the other hand was buried in his thick brown locks.

"No more, no less." Stark promised, glaring at Szayel. "That's the least you can do for him."

- - -

Blue eyes looked, blue eyes saw, blue eyes wondered. The artificial things humans construct for themselves in replacement of the actual creation were linked to everything around them; trees, clothes, food, nature, animals, toys, machines. Ah, machines, little gadgets that reeked of plastic and metal, were also connected to the everyday life of humans. Again, the blue eyes wondered. Humans disguised their true scent with little bottles that they sprayed themselves with – funny smelling perfume, cologne, all of these made Grimmjaw's nose twitch and the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Some humans even wore garments that looked like they were ripped off animals, but yet they smelled of plastic and of many other chemicals Grimmjaw couldn't identify. Faintly, in the back of his mind, he could remember Szayel's gloved fingers delicately tapping the contents of a test tube into another. All the smells produced from the chemicals smelled similar, yet so different to the ones he could smell now, standing in the middle of a busy street amidst foul-smelling humans and their annoying offspring. To make things worse, Grimmjaw realized he was no taller than the small humans who stared at him curiously as they walked past. Size didn't really matter, but it did a good job for intimidation. Grimmjaw also realized that he stood out from the other human children with his shocking shade of blue hair, blue eyes, and what looked like makeup on the sides of his eyes. That aside, he was dressed like a normal child, and had the same features that resembled humans.

Behind him stood his temporary guardian, a teenage boy with brilliant orange hair and amber eyes that looked like they had seen everything – pain, sadness, anger, happiness, disappointment. At the moment however, Ichigo looked stoned. His eyes were glazed over and a thin line of drool trickled from the side of his mouth and onto his shirt. Grimmjaw looked up at him with disgust.

"Pull yourself together, Kurosaki." The strangely dressed teenage boy with black hair and glasses flexed his gloved fingers. "Try focusing on the problems you have at hand than the ones you know you will have to face sooner or later. Grimmjaw is your responsibility now."

Ichigo blinked as Uryuu wiped the drool away from his chin with a frilly white handkerchief. "Ah, did you make that, Ishida? It looks…uh, pretty."

"Yes, I did, thank you. You can keep it; I don't want it back anymore." Ishida nodded and turned to look at Grimmjaw. "He looks exactly like the older Grimmjaw, but definitely younger. What do you think Szayel fed him?"

Grimmjaw ignored them and watched a young human about his age hold an upside down cone with a round top that dribbled little drops onto the boy's fingers. Blue eyes widened in surprise as the boy licked the drops away with a pink tongue, then took almost half of the round top into his mouth. The boy nibbled a little of the wafer-like cone and looked up, saw Grimmjaw watching him and smiled. Grimmjaw couldn't tell if the boy was giving him a friendly smile or a feral, hungry one; his mouth was splattered with the same brown gooey stuff he had been licking from his fingers. Backing away until he was well covered by Ichigo's legs, Grimmjaw peeked at the boy through his fingers.

Suddenly, the boy stepped forward and walked towards him, holding out his strange meal with the same smile. Grimmjaw tensed, wondering if he should make a run for it or bite the little human. Then again, running would mean he was a coward, and humans tasted funny. Grimmjaw had quite a bit of experience with Ichigo's skin during bath time. They either tasted of soap or body odor, and he didn't like both one bit. The boy approached Grimmjaw and held out the cone to him.

"Do you want some too?" the boy asked him, stepping closer so he could see Grimmjaw clearly. "I don't mind sharing' it with you."

"Some of what?" Grimmjaw asked in a mixture of confusion and apprehension.

The boy studied him closely, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. "You mean you don't know what an ice cream is?"

Grimmjaw shook his head; negative. The boy didn't look so intimidating anymore up close. "What is that?"

"I told you, it's an ice cream, a chocolate one. Want to try some?" the boy smiled as Grimmjaw sniffed at it curiously. "You're a weird one."

"So are you, human." Grimmjaw retorted, crossing his arms defiantly.

Ichigo knelt down and wound an arm protectively around Grimmjaw's stomach. "Are you hungry, baby? I'll get you something to eat."

- - -

Ulquiorra was close; dangerously close. He had arrived in Karakura Town just hours before, and was now searching for Grimmjaw. Amazing; that substitute Shinigami could shield his reiatsu pretty well, and Grimmjaw's soul energy wasn't very conspicuous either. Ulquiorra blamed it on the fact that Grimmjaw was deformed now, hence lacking the ability to shield or release his reiatsu.

To his left, a child screamed. "Daddy, look! Come see, come see!"

Ulquiorra turned his head and watched the little girl squat down worriedly over a bedraggled kitten. Her father rushed to her side and reached out with a clean handkerchief to pick up the little animal, and Ulquiorra grimaced. Only humans would feel pity for such a pathetic little creature, he thought as his upper lip curled in disgust. Stupid humans, with their bullshit about compassion and sympathy and love; Ulquiorra, unseen, swept past the father and child in contempt, but beneath his masked façade, he felt a niggling sensation of total envy. Like humans, Arrancar share the same senses – pain, fear, anger, greed, joy, and sadness – but if they were made to hate, wouldn't they be made to love too? Yet Ulquiorra felt no such passion toward anything other than serving Aizen, hence his growing jealousy toward mankind.

What does it feel like to love? He wondered inwardly, watching the little girl cling on to her father's jeans with a worried face. How can you humans just feel compassion towards anything you see on the street? Doesn't that make you easier to manipulate?

As Ulquiorra walked on in his search for Grimmjaw, his questions were left unanswered.

**I don't know what to make of this chapter, really. Tell me what you think! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Procrastination is the art of keeping up with yesterday. Yeah, yeah, that's my excuse. ;D**

"The reason the Gotei 13 have been called forth to this meeting," bellowed old Yamamoto from his high throne. "Is because of the sudden increase of Arrancar visiting and leaving Karakura Town, as you all may already know. So far, they have not caused any real disturbances, but for the moment, I will assume that their sneakiness is not without negative intentions. As Shinigami, our main duty is to protect Seireitei, but with the suspicious movements these Arrancar have been proceeding on Earth, I hereby give you orders to investigate these mysterious visits by Sousuke Aizen's army."

Yamamoto paused to cough and clear his throat, watching the captains' expressions intently. "Kuchiki-taichou of the 6th division, and Hitsugaya-taichou of the 10th division, I choose you and your lieutenants to ensue this investigation. I expect a full report on their missions. Kurotsuchi-taichou of the 12th division, you are to monitor these Arrancar and find out what sort of missions they are carrying out upon Aizen's instructions."

Leaning back on his high seat, Yamamoto waited for any questions/objections. There were none. "Very well. You are now dismissed; go forth and carry out my orders."

The ten remaining captains bowed low and shuffled out of the meeting room in silence, heading for their own divisions, all focused on the matters at hand. Byakuya stalked over to his lieutenant's office and prodded Renji in the shoulder. The red haired tattooed man was in a deep sleep on his table, apparently, when he was supposed to be completing several piles of paperwork next to him. The nerve of Abarai, Byakuya mused as a nerve twitched on his forehead. Realizing that mere shoulder poking wouldn't work, Byakuya resorted to the cold cup of green tea seated innocently on a thick book.

When the contents of his cup splashed on his face, Renji jerked back in his seat like a jack-in-the-box.

"AH! No, take him instead—oh. How may I be of assistance, Kuchiki-taichou?" Renji tried to hide the furious blush that crept up slowly from his neck to his hairline with a paper fan.

Byakuya noted that the fan had a little stamp on it that clearly said 'Handmade in Karakura', then noticed how slender and tapered his lieutenant's fingers were. His gaze traveled from Renji's hand to his neck, collarbone, and finely toned chest. Ah, if only that sleeve didn't cover Renji's tattooed front. Actually, Byakuya figured, if only Renji wasn't wearing anything—stop this nonsense. This is no time for mind games, Kuchiki Byakuya. Back to business.

"Sleeping on the job, Abarai, is something I do not encourage." Byakuya gave Renji a stern glare before continuing, noting with strange satisfaction that Renji's blush turned a deep shade of crimson. "Now, Yamamoto-taichou has issued orders for us to investigate Arrancar missions in Karakura town along with Hitsugaya-taichou and his lieutenant. Apparently these hollows are acting suspiciously upon Aizen's commands and are visiting Karakura like dogs on a trail. My guess is that they seem to be searching for something, or someone. Get ready, Abarai, we leave tonight."

"Y-yes, Taichou!"

With a last keen stare at Renji's upper body, Byakuya turned on his heel and walked out the door, leaving Renji blushing and blinking in sheer confusion.

* * *

"What're you doing?" Isshin sauntered into the kitchen, staring at his son attempting to empty half a carton of flour into a bowl. "Don't tell me you're trying to cook. Is this for a show-and-tell science project for school?"

"Can it, Dad; who has show-and-tell science projects when they're sixteen?" Ichigo cracked some eggs into a bowl. "I'm obviously cooking, anyone could tell."

"Mmm, no wonder you're wearing my apron," Isshin nodded approvingly. "Mommy would be so pleased! In fact, she'd be really happy--!"

Ichigo flicked an empty pancake mix box at his father with a disgruntled sigh. "Don't start on Mom. I don't think I could take anymore. I've had it up to here," he gestured at his neck impatiently. "With that little brat upstairs and I really want some peace and quiet."

Isshin surveyed his son quietly, a musing frown marring his otherwise smooth features. "Don't you mean brats, Ichigo? Though I've never heard you call your sisters that, I guess there's always a first time."

Absently, Ichigo waved Isshin's question aside and grabbed a saucepan from the rack. "Nah, I was talking about Grimmjaw. I took him out yesterday and he had his first taste of ice cream. I got stopped so many times by girls who wanted to kiss his cheek and stroke his hair; I guess his hair color's pretty rare, huh. Maybe he got it from his mom. Wait, I don't even know if he has a mom or—WHOA!"

His hand still gripping the saucepan, Ichigo managed to avoid his father's widespread arms as Isshin dived at him, attempting a bear hug.

"You damn idiot, watch what you're doing! The hot oil could've burned me!" Ichigo yelled, aiming a kick at his father.

Isshin settled for a clingy hold on his only son's leg. "Ooh, you didn't tell Daddy you made a little boy with someone! And you don't even know his mother? You're such a player; you take right after me! Maybe I've given you too much freedom, my boy. But that's alright, since you have a boy of your own. This is wonderful; Mommy would be so proud!"

"WHAT?! NO, THAT'S NOT IT, I CAN ASSURE YOU--Ah, just shut it, Dad!" Ichigo flailed his free arm in distress. "Let go of my leg, goddammit! You're a disgrace to fathers, did you know that?!"

"S'that wall supposed ta be on fire?" a soft voice asked from beside the refrigerator.

"AH!" Ichigo emptied the contents of the saucepan into the sink hurriedly and filled it with water to douse the fire. "Look what you made me do, Dad, you sick fuck! Thank bloody hell Grimmjaw told me in time—mmph!"

Ichigo's mouth was smothered by Isshin's hand as his father dragged him closer in Grimmjaw's direction, a wild, almost demented look on his face.

"Is this your little boy?" he asked, shaking Ichigo with a gleeful smile. "Your little son, yes? Yes? YES?"

Releasing a series of garbled replies, Ichigo nodded furiously as he struggled under his father's death grip. Isshin continued to stare wide-eyed at Grimmjaw, who glared back and scoffed at him in abhorrence and distaste. The diminutive Espada turned his glare onto the Shinigami substitute and made a disgruntled face at him as he spread out his arms, which were covered with one of Ichigo's button down shirts. Apparently he had no pants on, but the shirt was long enough to cover everything up to his ankles. Thank mother of the grapevine the shirt was a dark green, though it clashed horribly with his bright teal hued hair.

"What's this, Ichigo? I smell funny!" Grimmjaw sniffed at his temporary guardian's shirt. "Where's my robes?"

"Asdfghjkl!" Ichigo sputtered as he wrenched free of his father's grasp. "Gah! Sorry, Grimmjaw. I had to hand them over to Ishida; your jacket had a hole in it. I'm pretty sure he'll wash them for you too, so don't worry. Um, do you like pancakes?"

Grimmjaw offered Ichigo a quizzical look. "Whassat?"

Isshin waved the empty box of pancake mix at the Espada. "Pancake. You spell it this way, p-a-n-c-a-k-e. In America, they call it flapjacks. It's basically a flat piece of cake fried on a pan. You can eat it with meat, or fruits and ice cream, jam, or with syrup. Our family style is dribbling maple syrup all over it and adding some banana slices coupled with strawberries at the side, and voila! Breakfast fit for a king."

"What do you think you're doing, advertising for a diner?" Ichigo poured some milk and the bowl of eggs into the batter as the saucepan reheated on the stove. "Give the kid some space, Dad. You're kinda cornering him into the fridge."

"Cake." Grimmjaw tugged at his loose shirt with a small pout. "It's like ice cream?"

"No, it's a pancake." Isshin ruffled Grimmjaw's soft blue hair with a smile. "But we do have ice cream to go with it if you'd like."

"Yesterday," Grimmjaw announced importantly, clutching at his shirt. "I was attacked by a human child who wanted to make me take an ice cream. An' he called me _weird_."

"He just wanted to share some with you. And it's not '_take_', it's '_eat_'. Didn't I tell you to be polite and say thank you?" Ichigo flipped the pancake in the pan expertly onto a plate.

"Why should I thank him fer somethin' I don't want?" Grimmjaw frowned as he ran a hand through his hair. "You're weird too."

Ichigo sighed, pouring some syrup on the pancake. "It's '_didn't _'want, Grimmjaw. C'mere and I'll let you try this pancake."

"No!" Grimmjaw snarled as he scooted into the nook between the fridge and cabinet. "Yer gonna poison me or somethin' like that. Exactly like Szayel."

Isshin began one of his notorious fatherly rants around the kitchen space about how cruel the world was becoming, and Masaki, would you believe our son has a _son_? As his father waltzed out of the kitchen to hug the wall in the living room where his late wife's poster hung, Ichigo made his way to Grimmjaw, who was scowling at him from the corner he was wedged in.

"Szayel poisoned you, Ulquiorra said. Can you remember what he poisoned you with?"

"Somethin' green and icky from a bottle. Said it was rum Ulquiorra bought in a drugstore here." Grimmjaw crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. "I ain't stupid enough to fall fer that trick again."

"Rum?" Ichigo bit back a laugh, but couldn't resist a chuckle. "I'm afraid you've been lied to, sweetheart. As far as I know, rum's not green."

"I KNEW IT!" Grimmjaw hissed, pouting at Ichigo. "That fuckin', lyin' bastard."

"Calm down, baby. Those words aren't something you should be using around here. Dad will kill me if he found out Yuzu or Karin picked them up from you." Ichigo reached out and tousled Grimmjaw's wavy locks affectionately. "C'mon, let's get you filled up. I promise this won't turn you into a frog."

"What's a frog?" Grimmjaw asked, stepping forward into Ichigo's arms for a well deserved cuddle. "Is it food?"

Chuckling, Ichigo lifted him up and placed him on the kitchen counter. "It's an animal, an amphibian to be exact. Y'know, the kind that's wet and hops and eats insects?"

"Sounds a lot like Szayel." Grimmjaw grinned and accepted the forkful of warm, moist pancake.

Ichigo watched him chew expectantly, a small smile sculpting his lips. For once, the teenager lost the habitual frown he had when he was mulling over something.

"S'good," Grimmjaw proclaimed as he savored the mouthful of pancake.

Ichigo beamed. "That's my little sweetheart. Some more?"

* * *

"I can ride my bike with no handlebars!" screamed a boy as he whizzed along the downhill lane on his red and blue striped ride. "WAHOO!"

Ulquiorra stepped aside to avoid the hysterical kid and his group of friends on equally loud bikes, screaming and hollering their way downhill. Fucking immature _children_. A lone straggler struggled to pedal faster with his short legs so he could join his buddies. He was adorable, with soft black bangs that covered half his eyes, and rosebud lips. Ulquiorra studied the tired child interestedly, though his face showed no expression.

"Do you require assistance, child?" What the fuck just came out of his mouth? Since when did he offer help to repulsive humans, much less their offspring?

The little boy looked up at him with a tired but happy smile. "Could you push me down so I can go faster?"

"Yes." Gladly, Ulquiorra thought, and gave the kid a firm shove, watching him roll away down the street with a happy whoop.

"Thanks, mister!"

"…You're welcome." I suppose.

Ulquiorra continued his search, and only stopped to wonder how the hell that kid could see him. Shrugging it off, he started to contemplate why he had decided to aid a silly human in the first place. Was he turning soft or something?

* * *

Stark leaned against the doorway of Szayel's laboratory, trying to muffle a loud yawn under a gloved hand. He failed. The Octava Espada shot him a vicious glare.

"Oh, go away, Stark. You're distracting me from my work."

"I won't, not until you finish that chemical for Grimmjaw." Stark replied, stifling yet another yawn. "Where's your bed?"

"Eager, aren't you?" Szayel licked his upper lip with a languorous pink tongue. "Wait a little more, and I'll join you."

Rolling his eyes, Stark entered the laboratory and tilted Szayel's chin with an expressionless stare. "Stop twisting my words. I just want to sleep."

"With me?" Szayel grinned maliciously, fingers running over Stark's well toned torso. "Oh, gladly, but Grimmjaw's potion just might not work anymore if we proceed."

Releasing a controlled sigh, Stark trailed his finger down Szayel's neck. "If you really must be like this, then so be it."

Szayel responded with a look of pure confusion. Before he could say more, he felt a hand grasp the back of his neck and pulled him forward to meet Stark's tempting lips. As their tongues fought for dominance, Szayel felt himself melting into Stark's arms, practically waving a white flag. He hadn't expected Stark to be such a great kisser. With a soft moan, Szayel allowed Stark's nimble fingers to deftly remove his Espada uniform.

"Ah!" Stark earned a loud gasp as he nipped at Szayel's bare lower neck, sliding his tongue languidly downward, while his fingers pinched and fondled at a nipple until it was pert. "Mmm, Stark! I didn't know you were so…ah, nngh, there…so good!"

Smirking, Stark lowered his free hand to massage Szayel's bulge in his Espada pants, eliciting a rasping moan from the Octava Espada. The pink haired Espada was so incredibly easy to manipulate, Stark mused as he pushed Szayel against the wall into a lip bruising kiss.

**Electric Romeo ftw.**


End file.
